


White Snow

by roman_numeral



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: M/M, Male Slash, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 05:40:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8044507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roman_numeral/pseuds/roman_numeral
Summary: Geralt comes across an old flame, a man he never wished to see again, because of the things he made him do. But a job's a job and he is a professional. PWP. Mostly porn between Geralt and OMCs. Some Geralt/Lambert but only a tiny bit.





	White Snow

**Author's Note:**

> I've been playing Witcher 3 nonstop for a year now. I cannot put this game down. I am a woman possessed.  
> I love Geralt and I love his look so I typed this up in 4 days. It is not beta-ed, so there are some grammatical errors.  
> This piece takes place during Geralt's younger years. 
> 
> If anyone does read this, comments would be nice and greatly appreciated. Enjoy :)

          ‘Kaedwen, close to the Blue Mountains, that’s where it’s located’ The king had said. ‘More than that I do not know.’

          Kaer Morhen, one of five schools for witchers. Klover was in dire need of a witcher. He had set up a notice with a handsome price as a reward but no one had answered it. An old wise man had told him it was because it was winter, witchers sought refuge in their old schools to pass the winter.

          And so there Klover was with 10 of his best knights looking for the hidden School.

          No one knew it’s exact location, there were only rumors that it was in Kaedwen somewhere near the Blue Mountains, maybe.

          Klover’s King was desperate enough to order his most trusted man to go in the middle of winter and chase this mythical school.

          The sun was setting so he ordered his men to set up camp. The nights were cold and windy. They had prepared well by bringing plenty of furs and always tending to a large fire. The men took shifts to keep watch at night.

          Klover woke up as the sun was rising. He left his men to pack everything up as he wondered up a hill to see what he could see.

          The land was vast and covered in a thick blanket of snow. There was no trail to follow and there was no sign of a school or any type of building, Klover feared he was chasing a wild dream.

          He walked further down the hill and picked berries to enjoy.

          He heard them before he saw them.

          “Do it already!” A voice growled.

          “What an impatient slut you are Geralt.”

          “My skin’s turning into dried prunes and I still haven’t gotten off!”

          Klover quietly made his way toward the voices. There was a spring there with vapor rolling off the surface and in it there were two men. One with dark hair and the other with silver white hair that reached his broad shoulders. However, they both seemed the same age despite the white hair. They both looked like young men.

          They were being very intimate. They kissed on the mouth and then the dark hair one turned the white one around and thrust into him.

          It was indecent, that he stood there and watched and yet Klover could not look away. The white haired one was a sight to behold. His eyes were closed his mouth open in ecstasy as moans escaped his throat. His white alabaster skin glistened from the warm water and the low sun. Meanwhile the dark haired one took full advantage of the willing body. He thrust deeply and surely as he held on with one hand on white hips and the other one around the extended throat.

          Klover unconsciously rubbed the front of his breeches. He breathed along with the loud moans of the white haired one. And then both men in the pool cried out their release. The spy was about to stuff his hand down his pants when the crunch of stepped on snow made his turn around.

          “We are ready to go my lord.”

          Klover nodded and the party of 11 once again began roaming the snowy planes of Kaedwen.

          It was an old man with a hood that stopped them on their tracks, a loaded crossbow pointed at Klover.

          “Who are you and what are you doing here?” The old man’s voice held authority as if he was used to being obeyed.

          “I am Lord Klover from the Sunrise Estate, I have come here to Kaedwen in search of the Witcher School.”

          “And what do you want from the school?”

          “I am in dire need of their help. I need a witcher to lift a curse. Please, sir, if you could direct me in their direction I will pay you handsomely.”

          Then the old man lowered his hood and yellow cat-like eyes stared back at him.

          Klover got off his horse. “Master Witcher please I beseech you, hear my case and help me.”

          The Lord and his knights were cold, their hair and beards had snow and ice on them and Vesemir also felt the intense cold.

          “Follow me,” he said and mounted his horse. “I will hear you case in the comfort of four walls and a roof.”

          Slowly, as it was an uphill way, they made their way into the School of the Wolf.

          “I thought the school was supposed to stay hidden, and yet you bring us without instruction to close our eyes?”

          “The trail is enchanted. I am leading you to it without a problem because I have no fear you will ever find it. The trail is only visible to those who whisper the correct spell and only a select few know the words. So even though you know the way, still, you will not find it. You would just go round in circles endlessly hoping to find it.”

          “Quiet ingenious.”

          “Nice of you to say, but in truth this only occurred to us far too late.”

          “How so, if you do not mind me asking?”

          “We were not as careful before. Because of our carelessness a malicious group of men armed to the teeth came one day and slaughtered all the witchers in training along with all of the teachers. The only ones who survived where the ones who were away and not in the keep. There are only a few of us who remain, too few.”

          “I’m sorry to hear this.”

          They traveled for an entire hour and then they came upon a small bridge, and then large wood doors, and then they saw it: Kaer Morhen, School for Witchers. It was a gigantic castle, worthy of a king. Although Klover could tell it was falling into disrepair.

          The old man, Vesemir, was hospitable and gave them all hot soup and teas.

          Afterward, the knights were guided a room with many beds to rest in and the Master Witcher and the Lord were left alone to speak.

          “I come in behalf of my King. His fears a curse has been laid upon his house. The King is married and as all kings he wishes for offspring to pass on his legacy and crown. The Queen has been pregnant four times and four times the child has died.”

          “Stillborn children or death at infancy is not a rare thing. In fact, it is quite normal.” Vesemir countered.

          “You are right sir. But tell me is it normal that every child has dies only a day after its first month of birth. ?”

          And at that Vesemir’s interest peaked. “That indeed is not normal.”

          “I do not think so either master witcher. My King is prepared to pay 5,000 crowns to any witcher that lifts the curse.”

          “I hefty amount.”

          “My king does not want to bury one more child. This requires immediate attention. You see, the Queen is pregnant again.”

          “I see.”

          “Master Witcher please tell me you will take this contract. The life of a child and the sanity of my king hangs in the balance.”

          “I do not take contracts young lord. I am an old man who does what he can to keep the walls of this keep from falling upon our heads. But you are in luck. I have three witchers in this winter. I will present this case to them and see if any one of them will take the contract. Meanwhile rest and gather your strength again. Tomorrow in the morning I will let you know if any of my former students will help your king.”

          Klover nodded. “Many thanks, master witcher.”

          Klover enjoyed his stay in the old keep. He was able to wash his dirty clothes and take off his boots without fear of losing his toes thanks to the cold. He took a hot bath and after words when he was wrapped in many layers of clothes and fur he climbed a long stairway and from a balcony took in the most breathtaking view he had ever seen in his life. Not even his king enjoyed such a view.

          From the balcony he could see mountains surrounding the valley, he saw blue rivers and tall tree covered in snow. He could also see towers in the not so far distance and he wondered if they were part of the witcher school.

          After the sun went down he too went to sleep and slept soundlessly.

         

          The morning came accompanied with the sound of the howling wind.

          “My Lord, the witcher Vesemir awaits you down stairs in the kitchen area.” One of his knights informed him.

          “Thank you.” Klover dressed quickly. And in less than 5 minutes he was in the kitchen. He was anxious to hear what the witcher had to say, but the people that he saw there made him stop.

          It was the white haired one, with white skin and pink lips. Next to him was the dark haired one who had gleefully enjoyed claiming him. They were witchers.

          “Oh, merciful gods who cooked this?” Another witcher exclaimed. This one had brown hair.

          “That would be Lambert,” the white one said.

          “Hey if you don’t like it don’t eat it, more for me.”

          “I think I’d rather eat werewolf than this.” He pushed his bowl away and rummaged around for something else. “What happened to all the soup Vesemir made?”

          “He fed it to some strays he found yesterday.”

          “Strays?”

          “AH HA!” The brown haired one held up a large ham in triumph. “Hey pass me the bread will ya Geralt. I will make a sandwich.”

          “Hey make me one Eskel.”

          “Do I look like your servant?”

          “I’m warming up milk for all of us.”

          “Oh fine.”

          “Hey make me one too.”

          “Get lost Lambert, you can eat your damn soup.”

          “Fuck you, that’s the last time I try to feed you.”

          “You mean poison me? I swear if it wasn’t for the witcher experiments that soup would have killed me.”

          It was strange for Klover to witness the conversation between the three witchers. He had never had personal dealings with them but like all people had hear many things about them.

          They’re heartless. Dead eyed killers. They kill for pleasure not for coin, that’s just an excuse to seem less monstrous. They may look like us but they’re not, they have more in common with beasts than with men. That was only some of the things Klover had heard.

          But there in the kitchen they seemed like three regular brothers arguing over breakfast like all families did.  They seemed completely normal and not at all like monster hunters/killers.

          “Children, behave,” Vesemir, the master of the keep, walked in. And he seemed to complete the family as an exasperated father.

          “There’s only one child here and that’s Lambert,” Eskel supplied and the white one laughed while Lambert threw a piece of bread at Eskel.

          “Lambert, we have company please control yourself.” His voice rose with authority and he was obeyed. “This is Lord Klover. He has traveled quiet a distance hoping one of you will take the contract.”

          “What’s this contract about?” The white haired one spoke, his voice was deep and yet soft, his face curious.

          Klover had to force himself from thinking about the pink mouth open and crying out in ecstasy.

          “My King has quite a problem.” And he went on to explain what he had already told Vesemir.

          “Does the King have enemies?”

          “I suppose he does. He is not fond of non-humans so he ordered them all out of his city. He did it humanly and used no violence but I imagine some weren’t all too happy to leave their homes and their belongings.”

          “Yes, but to take the life of month old babies the person he wronged must be quite angry.”

          “Could be the Queen. Maybe the Queen has enemies?”

          “The Queen is kind. She is shy by nature and doesn’t make many public appearances and with each death she has withdrawn more and more into herself. But she comes from a good family not one blemish to their name.”

          “Yeah, but we don’t always know what is going on behind closed doors.”

          There was silence as each witcher pondered over what Klover had said. Their food was forgotten in front of them and it went cold.

          “So will you take it? Will you help my king?”

          Eskel looked at Geralt. Eskel himself could not go. He was recuperating from a griffin’s attack. The wounds on his throat were still angry and when Eskel wasn’t careful with his neck turning they would open and start bleeding again. And personally he thought Geralt was a much better candidate than the hot headed Lambert. Lambert liked running his mouth and he doubted a King had much patience with that.

          “Yes,” Geralt said. “I will take your contract.”

          Klover let out a sigh of relieve. “Many thanks, after many long months I can feel hope, finally.”

          “We’ll leave tomorrow at first light. I need to pack provisions.”

 

          Klover wished to rest more but he understood the need to move quickly. It was best to move before the snow made it impossible to leave the keep and every day that they weren’t in _____, was a day wasted.

          The 12 men left Kaer Morhen, early in the morning. They were well provisioned thanks to Vesemir and the horses were well enough rested.

          The witcher knew the land best and so Klover let him lead the way. They made good time. In three days they were out of the mountainous region and in more flatter land, which the horses were grateful for.

          They made camp at the edge of the woods. As usual two tents were set up and the party divided equally into them, a guard as always was posted.

          Geralt awoke in the middle of the night. His medallion was vibrating. Something was outside the tents. He sat up and concentrated. It was more than one. Nekkers or drowners, they were close to hill and water. Mentally he cursed. Silently he awoke Klover.

          “There are monsters outside. Awake your men, we must fight.”

          Klover awoke those in his tent and then he went outside. Remon the one in charge of night watch was awake but anaware of any impending danger. Klover looked around, he didn’t see nor hear anything.

          “Are you sure, witcher?” He questioned the monster hunter.

          Geralt stared out into the woods. “Yes, it’s nekkers, about 12 of them, maybe more. They’re slowly making their way down here.”

          Klover awoke the rest of his knights.

          Klover had been in battles, all of his knights were battle tested but none had ever fought monsters.

          The nekkers moved fast. They had sharp claws and thin arms but they were strong. The battle was bloody not one knight was left woundless. But it was the witcher who slew most of them.

          Klover watched in amazement as the white one moved like the wind, graceful and effortless. He dodged every claw and kick. He severed heads and limbs and stomped the life out of the monsters. The last one he fought was the biggest of them all, the leader of the monster group. He was difficult to kill, Klover could see Geralt was struggling.

          Klover grabbed the crossbow from one of his men and pointed it at the monster. He waited for a sure shot and then the arrow went flying, that gave Geralt the chance to sever the beast’s head clean off.

          Klover ran to the witcher, deep red blood seeped from in between his fingers as he tried to stop the blood flow from a slash on the side of his stomach.

          Klover led him back to their tent. He laid the witcher down on his cot and started sowing the wound close.

          “What you did back there, that was quite a sight. I’ve never seen anyone move so fast.”

          “Not fast enough.” The witcher grunted.

          “Still, if it weren’t for you, I fear my knights would not have fared well. I thank you witcher.” He finished the stitching and with hot water and clean clothes he cleaned the blood away.

          The witcher went straight to sleep, and the young lord was able to admire him more freely.

          Truth was Klover had a hard time not admiring the white witcher. He was a handsome man in the most unusual of ways. His hair was beautifully full and shiny as silver, his skin as white as pure snow, his lips pink and his mouth wide.

          Naked in front of him, Klover could see the many scares the witcher possessed and it spoke of much that the monster slayer had to endure. He also had some tattoos, something in a language strange to Klover, and three stars on his shoulder.

          Klover traced one of the stars, slowly his hand went to the witchers shoulder and then he caressed the strong jawline. A noise right outside the entrence of the tent made him jump back.

          “Everyone’s well, my lord. All have been taken care of.”

          “Good. We will keep resting here we shall be fine.”

          The group rested until midday so as to give everyone recouperating time, it wasn’t enough, but some was better than none.

          For the next rest stop they made their way to a small village and their they found an inn.

          There wasn’t enough rooms for them all.

          Klover, as leader of the band, was able to get a room for himself and the witcher who was still bleeding from his wound. The knights who were badly wounded shared a room and the rest slept in the barn with the animals. But they didn’t mind it was still better than outside without much cover but the cloth of a tent.

          “Let me see the wound.” Klover unwrapped the bandages. To his astonishment the would looked much better. The witcher healed faster than humans by far. However, blood did seep through a bit. Klover got more hot water and clean clothes and cleaned the wound.

          “I can do this myself,” the witcher said.

          “Nonsense, you save my men and myself, this is the least I could do.” He wrapped the wound again with clean bandages and when he was done he sat in his own bed. “Is there anything you need? Anything to make you more comfortable?”

          “No, the wound will mostly be healed by tomorrow, afterwards it will just be bruised.”

          “The perks of being a witcher, huh?”

          “I suppose, there has to be an upside to all this.”

          Klover didn’t know what to say to that so he stayed quite.

          The witcher went to sleep first and once again Klover could not look away. The man’s hair was fanned out on the pillow, his bare chest rose up and down with each breath. One hand was on his stomach. He had neat nails, short and clean. His fingers were long and elegant like a refined gentleman.

          Klover felt his cock twitch. He went downstairs hoping to occupy his mind with something else. He played gwent with the locals and drank a pint of beer and ate greasy food.         When he went up to his room he was tired and was able to sleep.          

          But even in his dreams he thought only of Geralt. He dreamt of Geralt and the other witcher in the pool of hot water. In his mind he saw only Geralt and heard his moans.

          When he woke up the Lord was alone in the room, for a moment he worried about his companion and then thought it silly. His companion was a witcher, the man could probably kill everyone without breaking a sweat, even wounded.

          He packed his belonging and when he was done the door open.

          It was the witcher with bags of food for the journey.

          “If you don’t mind me asking Lord Klover, are you married?” The witcher said out of nowhere.

          “No, I have not found a maiden to marry. Why do you ask?”

          “Last night, you moaned as a man in need of release. There is a brothel here in the village if you would like to use it before we leave.”

          At those words the young lord turned pink. He was ashamed of himself. He had been dreaming of the witcher, he had moaned out loud and the same man had heard him! It was also humiliating for the witcher to advise using a brothel.

          “Thank you but that is quite unnecessary.” Klover said curtly.

          “They have boys there too.”

          Klover turned furiously at the killer.

          “I am not blind and my senses are stronger than any man’s. I have sensed you staring at me. Perhaps release with a man will help you, there’s a boy there with light blond hair if that is what you desire.”

          “I will advise you witcher to keep out of my dealings. My sex life is not your concern.”

          The witcher shrugged so carelessly that it did not help Klover’s mood one bit. “I was only trying to help. Your sexual desires are nothing to be ashamed of.”

          “Do not presume to know what my desires are.”

          “Tell me about them then, if you are not ashamed.” It sounded like a challenge.

          Klover was not one to tuck tail and run.

          He launched at the witcher and their lips clashed together. Klover was prepared for rejection, he was expecting it, he had only done it to shut up the witcher. What he got instead was a willing partner.

          They kissed even as clothes were removed. Klover’s passion was as fire. He pushed the witcher back to his bed and removed his pants. The witchers cock was erect and even the member was a thing of beauty. It was long and thick, its head the perfect shade of pink like his lips. Klover went on his knees and took the entire length into his mouth. He massaged the soft balls and took in the moans of the witcher. His own dick was weeping for attention.

          Klover removed his breeches and his cock sprang free. He noticed the witcher licking his lips. A blowjob would be nice but he wanted to lay a claim on him. He wanted to push his way in. He settled in between the witchers legs and Geralt made to protest as Klover parted his ass cheeks.

          “I have no oil,” Klover said.

          Geralt rummaged around in one of his sacs and produced the desire oil.

          With his fingers coated, Klover gently made his way in, but Geralt didn’t want gentle. “Fuck me already.” He moaned.

          Klover spread oil on his cock and positioned his dick against Geralt’s entrance. Slowly he made his way in. The witcher was tight. He wrapped around him like a vice. If he didn’t know better Klover would think he was fucking a virgin with how tight Geralt was. He wanted to wait for the other man to adjust but once again Geralt would have none of that.

          “Move,” he urged.

          Klover pulled back and pushed back in.

          “Faster.”

          He did just that. Grabbing a tight hold of Geralt’s hips he moved in and out at great speeds. There was no finesse, not gentleness, only raw want and raw pleasure. Both men moaned with need. Geralt pumped his own cock as his hole was satisfied with a big dick. He cried out in pleasure when his sweet spot was hit.

          Klover kissed Geralt to keep him from making such loud moans. He did not want his knight to know what he was up to.

          The two men came together. Geralt spurted his useless spunk on his stomach and Klover shot his load inside of Geralt. When he pulled out he watched as it leaked out from the red hole. He fingered the used hole and Geralt moaned. Klover kept fingering it, causing the witcher’s cock to spring alive again. The two men kissed, and when Geralt came again, just from Klover’s fingers inside of him, Klover swallowed those moans.

          They laid side by side, as they tried to regain their breath.

          “That was better than I thought it would be.”

          Klover smiled at the witcher. But his smile disappeared when he saw blood on his side.

          “Shit, your would reopen.” Quickly he got up to redress it.

          “It was worth it,” Geralt said.

          That day the company moved out late in the day.

          They went back to sleeping in tents and on the hard floor.

          But on the third day of their continued journey, Klover went a little out of the way to go to an inn and get a room for himself and the witcher.

          As soon as the door closed Klover attacked the witcher.

          They kissed aggressively. Their hands went everywhere, they undressed each other in such a hurry it seemed like a contest. This time, Geralt went on his knees. Klover had to put a hand over his own mouth to keep from moaning like a wonton whore. Geralt had a skillful tongue and a velvet throat.

          He didn’t warn Geralt of his impeding orgasm. “Drink it please,” he begged, “I want to know my seed is inside you.” The witcher did just that. He swallowed every drop and cleaned the knight’s cock with is tongue.

          “You’re amazing,” Klover said when he laid on the bed.

          “You’re not so bad yourself.” Geralt smiled.

          It was the first time Klover had seen the man smile and it took him by surprise. Usually the witcher’s face was devoid of any emotion. His smile was beautiful and it made Klover’s heart stir. “You know you can fuck me,” he said. “I don’t mind playing the submissive part.”

          But Geralt didn’t want that. “I enjoy being fucked,” he said. “A good hard dick in me is what I want.”

          “In that case…” Klover stroked his cock until it hardened again. He spread Geralt’s white thighs and then his cheeks. He tried preparing him again but just like last time Geralt was impatient.

          “Just shove it in,” he begged. “I want to feel the burn.”

          Klover slicked his dick and did just as Geralt wanted.

          Once again Geralt begged for hard and fast and Klover was happy to accommodate. He spilled inside the witcher and this time he stayed inside the warm body.

          The room became quiet.

          Klover traced one of the three stars. “What do they mean,” Klover asked in a whisper.

          “It is me, Lambert and Eskel, we are the last three witchers remaining from the School of the Wolf.”

          At the name Lambert, Klover thought back to the first time he had seen the two witchers.

          “Are you and Lambert… together?” Geralt’s brown drew together in confusion. “I confess to having seen you and the other witcher having intimate relations in the hot springs. I came upon you two by accident as I was looking for your school.”

          “I thought I heard something.” The witched grew quite as he thought back to that day. “But to answer your question no. Lambert and I are just acquaintances.”

          “Acquaintances? You have a tattoo that represents him.”

          Geralt wiggled under him. Klover was still inside him and he made no move to change that. “Lambert is a special boy. He’s full of anger. In truth I can only stand small doses of him. But he is my brother. Him and Eskel are my brothers. Along with Vesemir they are all I have in this world. And even though he tries my patience every time we meet, he still has a place in my life.”

          “So… you and your brother like fucking?”

          The witcher sighed. Kovir felt it more than heard it. “He’s not really my brother, you know that right? It’s just the brotherhood of being a witcher and being raised in the same school.”

          Klover pulled out minutes later. He watched as his seed started to trickle out. He wanted to push it back in but Geralt moved and began dressing.

          They ate in the inn. Drank some ale. And then went back up to sleep.

          The rest of the journey they slept in tents. The villages were too far off track and the young Lord knew he was taking longer than he should.

          They arrived at the kingdom in five days. The knights around them dismounted and led their horses to the stables.

          “Geralt?”

          “Is this where your king lives?”

          “Yes, this is King Farlin’s land.”

          Geralt made a small sound of surprise. “Farlin. I suppose there’s none to blame but myself.”

          “Geralt, what do you mean?”

          “Your king and I parted ways on bad terms, long ago. I did not think I would ever see him again.” The witcher took a deep breath. “But I am a witcher and I have accepted the contract. Besides I would not let another child die if it is in my power to stop it.”

          The witcher got off his horse.

          He followed Klover up the steps to the King’s home. He mentally prepared himself to see the man who had torn his heart apart and ruined his life so long ago. He still had nightmares from what he had done for that man. The man had tarnished his soul.

          You’re here for the child, he told himself. For a defenseless baby who has nothing to do with what happened twenty years ago.

 

          In the Grand Hall, the King awaited for Klover, the young Lord who had eagerly gone out in search for a witcher. Beside him was his Queen. She was a beautiful lady with eyes like a clear river and the complexion of a budding pale rose. She had long brown hair and small nose. She was beautiful, but there was sadness in her eyes. And since her third failed pregnancy it had not left her face.

          The king worried he would lose his wife to grief. He loved her, he wanted to see her smile once more with a child in her arms.

          A guard announced the return of Lord Klover with a witcher at his side. The King sat up straighter, he gave his wife’s hand a reassuring squeeze and then he turned to welcome the witcher.

          But who he saw there made him stop before a word was uttered.

          Before him stood the last person he thought he would ever see again. Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf. Farlin hid his shook quickly but he could not help but take in the beauty that stood before him. It took him back to a time when he himself was young and full of ambition and above all else greed.

          The White Wolf hadn’t changed much. Much of Farlin’s hair had gone from brown to grey because of age and he now had hard lines on his face. It was only thanks to rigorous and daily training that his body was still strong and his back straight. But Geralt, Geralt seemed as young as ever. His hair was as white as ever, silver and glowing, but it was longer, and he wore it loose. Hi seemed to have grown stronger, his shoulders were broader than Farlin remembered as were his biceps. But he still had a small waist, and the tight breaches showed off long legs and powerful thighs. To Farlin’s eyes time had only increased Geralt’s unusual beauty.

          “Your Grace, forgive the tardiness but after a long search I have brought a witcher to lift the curse.” Klover’s words took the King out of his mussing. “This is Geralt of Rivia, he hails from the School-“

          “of the Wolf, yes I know. Klover I thank you for your service, we shall exchange words later but for now I’d like to speak to the witcher alone.”

          With a graceful bow the Lord left. After some sweet words the Queen too was escorted out. It was the witcher and the King alone in the large room.

          “I must admit I am surprised to see you, Geralt.”

          “I am surprised to see you as well.”

          “Really?”

          “Like an idiot I didn’t ask Lord Klover who his King was.”

          “Truly? You went through negotiations without asking for your employer’s name?”

          “Yes. The thought of working for you never even crossed my mind.”

          “Has it changed your mind, now that you know who your contractor is?”

          “No. I am not here for you. I am here for a child. Either it’s father or mother angered someone so much they put a curse on it and that child should not pay for the mistakes of others.”

          The King was relieved. True, he wished another witcher had taken the contract but Geralt was here now, and he would take what he could get. And besides, Geralt was the best money could buy.

          “I hope our past, doesn’t become a problem.”

          “It won’t on my part,” Geralt promised.

          The King nodded. “Then I shall not mention the past at all.” The King breathed. “Come, I shall have the servants prepare a room for you. Rest for today, if you came from Kaer Morhen you’ve had a long journey. Gather your strength and tomorrow your investigation begins.”

          The servants led him to his room. It was spacious with a large bed, a bath was already drawn for him. He relaxed in the hot water and scrubbed all the dirt away. He shaved and combed the knots out of his hair. The servants supplied him with new clean clothes. They were tight on him but they were clean and didn’t smell of sweat and blood.

          He slept comfortable that night, more comfortable than he thought he would be able to. He was surprised at himself, the sight of Farlin had shocked him yes, but after that initial shock it hadn’t stirred any great emotions in him. Long ago it had, and he thought it would again. He was pleased it hadn’t. Farlin was his contractor and nothing more.

          The same could not be said about the King. The King loved his wife. She was a beautiful creature, the fairest in the land, and she knew her place.

          But seeing Geralt again awoke something he had thought long buried. The last time had seen Geralt he had told him he didn’t love him. It had been a half truth. A lie told so that people would not revolt at their King taking a nonhuman to bed. He had lied because it was easy. Over the years he had let the memory of the witcher fade away, and his wife had erased all thoughts of anyone else. Or so he thought.

          Geralt was beautiful, otherworldly so, partly thanks to the mutations.

          Geralt had once said he thought his hair had once been brown and his eyes blue, maybe. He supposed he would look handsome like that too. But with his white hair and cat like eyes, he looked ethereal. Even people who hated witchers and all they were with their entire being would not scoff at the idea of fucking him. He knew because twenty years ago, when he and Geralt fought together as one, he heard it all the time from his soldiers.

          How much for the witcher, Farlin? Come on share him with us, don’t be selfish. How ‘bout I only take his mouth, huh? I can imagine his hole stretched around my cock, 30 crowns come on Farlin.

          Geralt just had that effect on many. And after 20 years Farlin was not immune. His cock hardened as Geralt’s face came into his mind. He remembered that tight body, didn’t matter how many times he fucked him, didn’t matter if he fucked him five time in one night, Geralt was always tight. Tight like a virgin, like that first time. Sometime he would stick his fingers in along with his cock and Geralt would moan so loud, it was always music to Farlin’s ears. To have a killing machine under him, moaning his name, to have him submit to him, to have him obey him in everything; that was real power.

          Farlin grabbed his hard cock. He hadn’t been that hard in months. He couldn’t take his wife for fear of hurting their unborn child. He grabbed his member and pumped furiously. He thought of Geralt, of his White Wolf. He recalled the witcher under him begging wantonly, asking for it, opening his mouth for his seed, opening his hole for his cock. Farlin cried out his release, his seed spurted out in thick ribbons. Farlin breathed loudly. He had to sit down to catch his breath and calm himself.

          “Damn you, Geralt,” he said in the dark.  

          He didn’t think he could face the witcher tomorrow, not without throwing him on the floor and ravaging him.

         

          Geralt woke up to the sound of roosters. He washed his face to remove all sleep from him. He dressed in blue breeches and a grey shirt. He left his swords in the room and only strapped on his knife. As an after though he tied his hair back away from his face in a loose ponytail. His hair was getting long, he would have to cut it soon.

          He was led to the garden where the King and Queen were enjoying their breakfast. He was instructed to sit with them and a plate full of food was placed in front of him.       

          Eggs, cheese, buttered bread, and berries filled his plate, in his goblet there was orange juice, in was the fancies breakfast he’d had in a long time.

          “I trust you slept well?”

          “I did, thank you your Grace.”

          The King smiled. “Geralt please, to you I am just Farlin.”

          Geralt raised an eyebrow. Farlin wanted to break formalities. “Alright then.”

          “I supposed now is as good a time as any for you to begin your investigation.” The King pressed on.

          “Yes,” Geralt drank from his goblet. “The sooner I begin, the sooner you and your Queen can be free of this curse.”

          And so Geralt questioned them. First the King. Any enemies? For the King there was a long list. Over a hundred non humans had been forced to move out with little time to pack. Many had business in the kingdom that they were been forced to leave behind. Humans had taken over those businesses, humans who hadn’t worked hard for the success and wealth they now enjoyed thanks to elves and dwarves who had been forced out. Then the list got even longer when the King went further back into his past. There were many people he had killed, many families he had destroyed, men he had tortured, all so that he could become king. The list was very long.

          As for the Queen, she was an angel. Her family was admired. She was the antithesis of her husband. Not one person was added on the list on her behalf, Geralt was thankful for that.

          “So where will you start?” The king asked.

          “With the nonhumans. Did you keep any record of them? Their names, their families?”

          “Yes, Rodger, is my archiver. He can supply you with that information.”

          “Thank you.”

          He excused himself and went straight to work. Rodger kept good accounts. He had the names of all nonhumans, if they were elves or dwarves, if they were wealthy or poor. Elves were more inclined to magic than dwarves, so Geralt gathered the names of elves and their last known location. It was tedious work. There were many names he had to look through and had to keep flipping through 3 different books to get all the necessary information. It took several days to gather what he needed to start the field work.

          He visited the houses that nonhumans used to live in. Some were occupied with new residents but the King had given him written permission to go anywhere he needed to. So while there were complains no one could do anything to stop him. He walked around the houses to see if anything stood out. If his medallion vibrated, he made a note on his list. He needed to investigate the ones who practiced magic first as hopefully that would lead him to the culprit faster. He hoped the answer laid there, because if it did not then the investigation would draw out too long. The Queen was 4 months pregnant, a long investigation would not do.

         

          Geralt made his way back to the King’s palace. It was dark and the moon and stars were shining. Geralt just wanted to rest. He was tired. The last house he had investigated had literally drawn out all his energy. There was a powerful enchantment on the house, it quite literally could kill anyone who stepped in. Geralt surmised that the last resident in the house had been exceedingly angry to be forced to leave, so in retaliation enchanted the mansion so no one could enjoy the residence. It was quite genius, and it had been exhausting to undo the spell. The witcher longed for his bed.

          The King had a feast going. It was to celebrate the beginning of autumn and to ask the goddess for protection against evil doers. All the kingdom was invited, both rich and poor. And so the courtyard was packed full of people.

          Geralt was almost to his room when Klover himself stopped him.

          “Come Geralt join us, have a drink with me.”

          “Thank you, but I’m tired. I’d rather rest.”

          Klover climbed the rest of the stairs to stand right in front of Geralt, one step down. “I’m not sure you’ll be able to rest with all this noise. Maybe we could do something else.” His eyes were on Geralt’s lips. Already there was a bulge in his pants. The witcher licked his lips. “All that noise would allow us to be as loud as we wanted.”

          Geralt turned to go to his room, Klover only a step behind him.

          As soon as the door was shut, Klover jumped on Geralt. He ripped the witcher’s shirt off and pushed him on the bed. He took off Geralt’s boots and then his breeches. Geralt was completely naked while Klover was fully clothed. He settled between Geralt’s legs. He unmade his belt and took out his hard leaking cock. And he shoved right in.

          Geralt wrapped his legs around Klover and threw his head back, leaving his neck completely exposed. Klover took advantage, he drew Geralt closer to him and as he kept fucking in and out he latched on to the pale neck.

          Geralt moaned and groaned as Klover went faster and harder. Klover lived for those moans. He could feel his release building and he pushed and pulled even faster. And when he felt he could not hold back any longer he bit into Geralt’s shoulder and shot his seed inside of him. Geralt himself came from the pain and pleasure his body felt simultaniously. The witcher fell back to the bed, completely worn out.

          Klover meanwhile rocked in and out. His cock was soft but he did not give up. Finally, after a while it hardened again. Geralt was barely awake, but still he gave soft mewling moans. Klover went slow. He rubbed Geralt’s thighs and buttocks. He drew out as many moans as he could from Geralt. After a while Geralt couldn’t keep himself awake and he fell asleep as Klover kept using his body.

          Klover came one more time. When he shot his load he was deep inside Geralt. He pulled out slowly wanting to keep his seed inside the witcher. He grew angry when some began to leak out, but there was nothing he could do. Geralt wasn’t a woman, there was nowhere for his seed to go. He made the witcher comfortable and laid the covers over him. Before he left he wished the witcher sweet dreams.

          Klover had no idea that as he climbed the stairs down angry eyes followed him.

          The king had seen the witcher come into the palace, had seen him go up the stairs and decided he wanted to talk to him.    

          But when he was about to knock on the witcher’s door moans had stopped him. And the King, knowing his palace well, had found a good hiding place that allowed him to spy on the unsuspecting men.

          What he saw surprised him. But most of all it angered him. Geralt and Klover. Klover fucking his White One. Geralt had belonged to him first! Geralt had abandoned everything for him. Geralt was his!

          And so when Klover left, Farlin walked in. Geralt was completely passed out. His breathing was even and deep. Gingerly, Farlin moved the witcher, but Geralt did not wake and so he grew bolder. He removed the covers and drew Geralt’s legs closer to the edge.

          The festivities were loud outside and still Geralt did not stir. Farlin, sure now of what he could do, undid his belt and lowers his pants. His cock has hard and fat, it’s head purple and ready to burst. With his thumb Farlin rubbed at Geralt’s entrance and was disgusted to find another man’s seed there. Without further hesitation he rammed deep into the slack body. Farlin could not hold a moan back. Geralt was still tight, even after being fucked by Klover only minutes ago. He rocked back and forth. Leaning over Geralt, his arms on either side of him. He kissed Geralt’s cheek, his jaw, his chin, his neck, and finally his soft mouth. Just as soft as he remembered it.

          He came at the softness of those lips. He shot ropes and ropes of cum into the unconscious body. The king’s legs were left shaking. He hadn’t had such a powerful release in years. He pulled out, tucked himself in, and did his belt. He watched as his seed left the witchers body. He gathered some of it, rubbed it on Geralt’s white thighs. Then he grabbed more, kissed Geralt, and then rubbed the milky substance on Geralt’s lips. “Until, next time,” he whispered only inches away from his face.

          That night the King slept soundly. Even as his wife cried in his arms over the uncertain fate of their child, even as her body shook with sadness, Farlin was at peace. His body was sated, and he did not care about anything else.

 

          Geralt woke up and immediately felt the dried cum on him. He bathed, put fresh clothes on and continued with his investigation. That day he finished checking every house and was left with a list of 8 powerful elves, 11 elves who practices some magic, and a dwarf who had left a cursed talisman behind. Geralt made inquiries on the location of those individuals. He was able to find their addresses or at least the general area they could be located in.

          He would have to travel to continue with his investigation. He informed the King of this.

          “Will you need an escort?” The king asked.

          Geralt was slightly offended, he was a witcher, this was his job, he did not need anyone protecting him. “No, that is unnecessary. I will be simply making inquiries. Nothing more.”

          “Help then. I have an alchemist, he tried to undo the curse himself but was unsuccessful.”

          “I assure you I am more than capable of doing this on my own.”

          “I am no commoner, Geralt. I am a King and as such I order you to take with you Alfrid. He will greatly aid you in this investigation and thus bringing me results much faster.”

          “Alfrid?”

          Alfrid was a thirty-year-old alchemist with mediocre skills who thought he was a master. And he had a mouth that would not stop flapping.

          “I almost broke the curse,” he boasted yet again. “

 

          Geralt couldn’t resist rolling his eyes. Why had Farlin tied him to this dimwit. To spy on him? Did he not trust him to do his job? Or was it simply to exasperate him!?

          “We’ll rest here for the night.”

          “Here? In the middle of nowhere? But… there could be wolves!”

          “There’s nothing around us for at least a mile.”

          “How do you know?”

          Geralt turned to the man.

          “Oh right. But still, my good witcher, surely we can find an inn close by.” He followed the witcher around as Geralt set up the tent.

          “We are starting early tomorrow I suggest you get some rest.”

          Geralt placed his swords next to his spot on the floor. He removed his crossbow and his belt. He slept in his breeches and undershirt.

          The ‘alchemist’ kept everything on. He couldn’t help but feel a little subconscious about his body. He led a sedentary lifestyle and his body showed it.

          The duo moved out before the sun rose in the sky.

          Because Geralt didn’t think he could stand Alfrid for one more second he decided it would be better if they split.

          And so the work was divided and done much faster, which pleased Geralt greatly. He questioned the elves on his list. Most were understandably angry of course, some were more amiable to him. But he was disappointed to find no viable suspect. The elves were angry yes, but not angry enough to kill. The curse required a being with no morals, someone who was a cold blooded killer of the innocent. He met up with the alchemist as he finished questioning the last person on his list.

          “Anything?”

          “Nothing.”

          Geralt shook his head. What had he missed?

          “The King will not be happy.”

          No shit, he wouldn’t be happy.

          They made their way back. And once again Geralt was treated with the none stop talking of the alchemist.

          “I was 9 when I first picked up a book of magic. I could not put the it down. Thanks to my grandmother I knew a little of the elvish language. I read the book forward and backwards a million times before I understood anything on it. And then I realized there was so much more. Herbs and ingredients I had to collect. The first time I tried to do anything my eyebrows fell off thanks to a badly mixed potion, I was only 12. My mother was angry and forbade me to do anything else magical. I didn’t listen. I kept practicing in secret. I know people think it’s unconventional, and maybe humans shouldn’t practice magic, but I don’t care. I love what I do, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

          For a moment there was silence, and Geralt thought the man was done talking and was about to sigh in relief. “How about you? You’re a witcher how does one fall into that profession?”

          Geralt wanted to smack the man. How does one fall into that profession? It certainly wasn’t Geralt’s dream job.

          “Oh I’ve read the books. I know what they say. But I also know that one cannot always trust what is written. What I mean to say is: is it true? Or is it all rubbish?”

          It was a two-day ride back to the city. It was a long way and he supposed he could be amiable to the ‘alchemist’.

          “Most of it is true.”

          “Truly? You were taken as a child?”

          “Yes.”

          “How old were you?”

          “My father left me at Kaer Morhen when I was 5.”

          “Your father, but why would he do that? To leave his son in such a place!”

          “Vesemir, a master witcher, saved his life. My father had no way of repaying him, and so Vesemir asked for that which he did not expect. That was me.”

          “That is quiet a tale.”

          “Most witchers share the same story, mine’s is not unique.”

          By the end of their trip Geralt had warmed up to the man. He was annoying but he wasn’t so bad.

          Immediately Geralt went to the King, he wasn’t happy having to say that they had found nothing but the news needed to be reported.

          He was taken to the King in his private office. The King was seated, his legs spread wide. He had a red cloak on and was dressed as if going somewhere. But he instructed the witcher to sit on the empty chair across from him.

          “Tell me what have you found?”

          “I am sorry to say Your Grace, that we are back to square one. It was not the elves. Alfrid and I questioned everyone and no one from the evacuation did it.”

          The King nodded. “So what is your next move now?”

          “While I was talking to Alfrid a thought came to me. With Alfrid’s help I’d like to put you and your wife through some tests.”

          “What for?”

          “These tests could help me find out figure out what type of magic or curse it is that binds you. It will help me narrow down the type of person I’m looking for.”

          The king nodded. “And how will you accomplish this?”

          “With Alfrid’s help, we can make a potion that will make the magic around you become visible and make it easier for me to read.”

          “Will the potions consumed harm the baby?”

          “No, these potions are made with the lightest of herbs, there will be no side effects for either of you.”

          “Alright. Do it.”

          “The brewing of the potions will take two days.”

          Farlin stood up. He looked at Geralt, the witcher was still wearing the same clothes from the journey, his hair was dirty. He wanted to invite him out to hunt with him, but he was sure the witcher would say no. He deserved his rest anyway and tomorrow would be a new day. So he bid the witcher good day and went out to hunt for some deer.

          Klover was there when Geralt opened the door to his room. He had been walking around the room idly taking in Geralt’s meager belongings, just waiting for the witcher to make his way back into the room.

          “Looking for anything in particular?”

          Klover turned to him, a smile spread across his face. “It looks like I have found him.” He stroked his cock over his breeches.

          Geralt raised an eyebrow. “You have an overworking libido.”

          “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

          The witcher started undressing and then he went into the large tub, the water was not as hot as he would like but it felt good to scrub himself clean.  

          Klover placed himself behind the witcher and started massaging his neck. “Tell me, how did it go?”

          “The curse wasn’t place by the elves, at least not the ones who were kicked out of their homes. That was all we found, unfortunately.”

          “How did the King take it? Was he very angry?”

          “Surprisingly, he wasn’t. But I have another plan, I believe this one will give us results.”

          “Yeah?” Klover began kissing the witcher. He kissed along his jaw line and pinched the pale pink nipples. Geralt gasped when Klover pinched particularly hard and twisted his nipple. “I’ve missed you, you know.”

          “I was only gone for a few days.”

          “Still it was five days without my cock in you.”

          Geralt smiled. “I’m sure you could find someone else to entertain you.”

          “I don’t want anyone else.” Klover removed his clothes. He went into the tub and leaned over Geralt. He kept kissing the witcher, then his hand reached for his cock. It was hard already. He stroked the cock in the water, Geralt’s cock was velvet soft and the water only added to the softness of it. “Turn over,” Klover demanded, he was obeyed.

          The man parted the pale cheeks. There is was, the hole he’s missed so much. It looked tight as ever, with water glistening, foam slid off, it was so inviting. Klover grabbed his cock and positioned it at the entrance. He spit on his hand, rubbed his cock, and pushed in.

          Geralt groaned. His passage was dry but it felt oh so good to be fucked by such a big cock.

          Klover spit where his fully inserted cock met with Geralt’s tightness. He hoped that would help make it easier. He pulled out and groaned at the sensation. The water helped a bit but not much, and Geralt felt much tighter because of it. He pushed back in slowly. He reached around and grabbed Geralt’s cock. It was hard and leaking.

          “Tell me, did you have anyone on the road. Did you visit a brothel?”

          Geralt laughed, “I have no need for a brothel.”

          Klover slammed back in. “So what? You found a willing whore? She spread her legs for you without any coin exchange hands?”

          “Mmh, it was a soldier. He was young. With red hair and a plump ass. I took him behind a house, he was screaming my name by the end of it.”

          Klover took a hold of Geralt’s hips and started to work a faster rhythm. “It’ll be you screaming my name in no time,” He warned. “You’ll forget about this soldier in not time.” He sped up. His balls slapped Geralt’s buttock each time. Klover grabbed a fistful of Geralt’s hair and made the witcher’s spine curve dangerously. Klover kissed the pale neck and pumped Geralt’s cock.

          They came together. Geralt spilled in the tub and Klover in Geralt.

          “You know I’ve heard of this devise that whores use. It’s in preparation of their job, taking large cocks and all.” Klover said after a moment of catching his breath.

          “What is it?”

          “A dildo, they use it to work their vagina’s open to take in the first customer of the day without pain. I was thinking of getting one.”

          “You don’t have a vagina. Unless you’re hiding something from me.”

          “No, Geralt I don’t have a vagina. But…” He touched Geralt’s entrance and pushed a finger in making the witcher groan in pleasure. “I could get one for you. Slide it in when I’m done, keep my seed deep in you.”

          “Yeah?”

          “Yeah,” Klover kissed a white shoulder, “imagine; a part of me in you at all times.”

          The witcher smiled and then got up and out of the tub. “Perish the thought. It sounds horribly uncomfortable.”

          Klover sighed in defeat. He got up and dressed again in his old clothes.

          Geralt too dressed. He wore dark pants and a comfortable blue shirt, he put on black boots and then combed his hair.

          Klover took the brush away and combed the white hair himself. “Where did you get such a color from?” He asked. “Your father or your mother?”

          “Neither. Its due to the witcher experiments.”

          “Really?”

          “Yes, my father had brown hair and my mother blond. If I remember correctly I had brown hair.”

          “But Lambert and Eskel don’t have white hair.”

          “No, I had more experiments done on me than the average.”

          “Why is that?”

          “According to Vesemir I withstood the trials better than most and so they experimented on me more.”

          Klover made a ponytail. “Well I love it. It makes you look unique.”

          “I must go talk to Alfrid.”

          “If you’d like, when you’re not busy, you should come to my home. I have a great view of the valley from my room.”

 

          Geralt talked to Alfrid and explained his plan to the man. Alfrid was overjoyed to be able to show off his skill. The potion wasn’t hard it just required patience. The two men gathered the necessary ingredients to brew the potion and then the alchemist was left alone to work his magic.

          In the beginning the witcher hadn’t been sure about the man but having seen his laboratory and the way he spoke of the herbs Geralt was convinced the man truly was a capable alchemist.

          Having nothing to do, Geralt took up Klover’s offer and made his way to the east side of the city.

          Klover had a mansion. And many servants, a girl led him to the master of the house.

          When the Lord saw his visitor he immediately put down his quill and gave Geralt all his attention.

          He wasn’t sure when it happened but Klover was infatuated with the man. Geralt was in his mind at all hours of the day and when he wasn’t with him he just wished he was. He took Geralt’s hand and immediately took him to his private chambers, where no one would interrupt them.

          Klover wasted no time and started undressing. Geralt too undressed, but at a slower pace. Impatiently Klover helped him out of his clothes. He pushed the witcher back onto the bed and quickly positioned himself between Geralt’s legs. As an afterthought he grabbed the oil from his bed stand and slicked his cock with a good amount of it.

          And then without preparing Geralt he pushed in. “Oh, fuck,” Klover groaned. “You feel so good. So good. I’ve fucked virgins before but none of them compare to you. So tight, so perfect.” He paid no attention to Geralt and only worried about his own pleasure.

          As for Geralt’s part he enjoyed it but he hadn’t come for sex. Laying on his back, his cock ignored and the man above him praising his hole he realized that was all Lord Klover cared about. Fucking his tight hole. Truly Geralt had come to the house to see the view Klover had talked about.

          Geralt looked around the room, it was large, befitting a lord. He felt the man shudder and then the hotness of his release. Klover fell atop the witcher.

          “I don’t know what it is you’ve done to me Geralt. But I don’t think I could live without your ass.” He pumped his soft cock in once more as if to make a point.

          “I have bewitched you.” Geralt said dryly. “Forgive me Lord Klover, but I just remembered I have an engagement I must go to now.”

          The witcher wriggled himself free. He dressed and then left.

          When he made his way back into the palace. The King was there, boasting of his conquest. A deer, shoot twice with arrows laid on a table, ready to be skinned.

          “Tonight Geralt we shall feast, and you will be at my side!”

          Geralt wanted to decline, but there were too many people and he knew better than antagonizing a King. So nodded in agreement.

          At night a servant knocked at his door.

          “The king wishes for you to wear this.”

          Geralt opened the package to find a pair of breeches and a shirt of fine quality, clothes fit for lords and knights but not a witcher. The material felt soft against his skin, he was so used to rough and uncomfortable that in truth he felt like it was a nice change.

          It wasn’t a small dinner; it was a festival. The King, it seemed, like to party.

          A servant guided the witcher next to the king.

          The second Geralt made his way down the stairs Farlin couldn’t take his eyes off him. He was pleased to see he wore the clothes he had gifted him. The entire outfit was red and white with some golf outlining. Geralt was a vision. His long silver hair was loose, he had shaved and his jaw line was in full display, framed by his silver locks. The king felt his breeches tighten.

          “Another party, Your Grace?” Geralt asked as he sat down.

          “What good is life if we can’t enjoy the finer things. And it’s Farlin, Geralt, not Your Grace.”

          Geralt smiled. “It’s Vesemir’s teachings. ‘You’ll get farther showing respect than swinging a sword.’”

          “That may be true with Kings that don’t know you. I, on the other hand, know you so there is no need for formalities.”

          The masses ate to their hearts content. They drank and danced. If he were among friends Geralt might have enjoyed himself, but he wasn’t, so he didn’t. He ate a healthy portion of deer and potatoes. The food was good he enjoyed it. He washed it all down with strong ale and when he thought he had spent an appropriate amount of time there he stood up to leave.

          “So soon?” The King questioned.

          “I am tired.”

          “Let me accompany you.”

          The witcher protested but he was ignored. And so the two men walked up the stairs. Farlin closed the door behind him.

          “What are you doing?”

          Farlin walked closer. “Come Geralt, lets not waste time playing this game.”

          Geralt stood his ground. “I’m not interested.”

          “No? Then why did you wear my gift? You know how much I love red on you. And then you wear your hair down. Do you remember my fingers running through your hair? Remember how I gripped it when I would fuck you? Because I do.” He raised his hand and caressed the tresses. “Soft as ever.”

          Geralt took a step back. “It’s best if you leave.”

          “Oh, Geralt you are not fooling me. I know you miss my cock as much as I miss you. I know you miss being under me. You’ve never felt more fulfilled than when I took you. Don’t deny it.”

          Geralt didn’t, it was true.

          “I know Klover doesn’t compare to me. Oh, yes I know. He has eyes only for you when you enter a room. He doesn’t know you like I do. He doesn’t know what you like. He’s just a boy with no experience. I on the other hand, remember how to make you moan and make you cum until you cry.” The King now stood a breath away from the very still witcher.

          He leaned only a little closer and kissed the witcher’s jaw, his chin, his lips. “Don’t fight it,” the King said, “let me make you feel unimaginable pleasure.”

          Slowly he undressed the witcher. He undid one button at a time as he kissed the witcher’s soft lips. “Geralt don’t play the dead doll, you know I don’t like that.” And just as if was a puppet on strings he obeyed.

          The two kissed and clothes were slowly removed. When they were both naked, Farlin kissed the witchers nipples and sucked on one while he played with the other. Geralt’s breath quickened, he was guided back to the bed and he fell on it. Farlin maneuvered them so they were in the middle of the bed. He spread Geralt’s legs wide and then he dove it.

          Geralt gasped loudly.

          Farlin licked at Geralt’s entrance, he rubbed the milky thighs as his tongue dug into the tight ring of muscle.

          Geralt gasped and moaned his hands gripped the sheets tightly as Farlin expertly pleasured him.

          When Farlin entered him he was slicked up really good so there was no resistance.

          “Fuck Geralt!” The King exclaimed. “Tight as ever,” he said against the witcher’s shoulder. “It’s been twenty years and you still feel like that first time. Like that night I took your virginity. Fuck.” The King didn’t move for a while. He feared if he did he would climax, and that would not do. He waited a few minutes until he had himself back in control and then he began rocking back and forth. “You feel so good around me Geralt. How I’ve missed this. I missed you.”

          The more Farlin talked the more Geralt recalled the past.

         

          He recalled meeting the man when he was young, only 16, he hadn’t gotten his medallion yet.

          Farlin was twenty. The son of a lowly lord, the fifth in line to a small patch of land. He was poor, unimportant, and ambitious. He was good looking so women fawned over him and strong and wordy to inspire followers.

          Their paths crossed by blind chance. Geralt happened to be picking wolfsbane for Vesemir when Farlin and his band of men came across him.

          Farlin was smitten immediately. It was like a hazy dream: Geralt surrounded by green grass, picking blue flowers. His hair long and lose, his shirt ill fitting that it did not sit well on his shoulders. It was summer so the sun was out, casting sunrays on the scene. He had ordered his men to surround the unsuspecting victim.

          Geralt was scared and unprepared. His swords were left behind in the side of a river, but then Farlin had come like a guardian angel and told the men to stand down.

          Farlin had insisted to walk the witcher back home. Geralt, unused to humans and their ways accepted.

          For Farlin it was easy to seduce such a  youth with no experience. Witchers were monster slayers they trained their body to fight and kill. But there was no lesson in detecting a seducer.

          The group camped at night. Farlin set up a tent for himself and the witcher. And there he whispered sweet nothings to him. He called the youth beautiful, unique, pure. He gave Geralt his first kiss. In no time he had him moaning. When Geralt came in his hand, Farlin knew he could control him.

          “I’ll show you the world, you’ll be able to do whatever you want. You don’t have to kill monsters just because others tell you. You can be your agent. Take control of your life.”

          Really it didn’t take much to convince Geralt. In Kaer Morhen there was nothing but coldness there. The cold shoulder of his teachers, even of Vesemir, the man who was responsible for him being there. The other students hated him because he didn’t struggle as much as them. Farlin, in ten minutes had shown him more kindness and love than his 11 years in Kaer Morhen.

          Farlin made him a member of his bandits. Gave him a red strip of cloth to tie around his thigh. Gave him a sword and he joined the adventure.

          In the beginning it was easy. Rob here and there for food and shelter. Steal a horse, bride a man. But it escalated quickly. Kidnapping children of the wealthy for ransom. Killing for slights.

          Through it all Farlin whispered lies into Geralts ears. “They stole my inheritance. Everything they have is mine by birthright. Will you help me Geralt? Will you right the wrongs they have done against me.”

          And with those words in mind Geralt killed. He killed men and women, unarmed and armed. Because when he did as Farlin said to do, Farlin kissed him, told him he loved him, said he was doing the right thing. And Geralt believed every word.

          He was with Farlin and his group for less than a year. But in that year Geralt learned to lie to his advantage, he learnt to torture for information, he killed when ordered to.

          In the privacy of a tent or sometime a room, Farlin taught him how to suck a cock, what a man liked. He also learned to take pleasure from the rougher times Farlin took him without preparations, as time when by it became the norm. And although those times were painful, Farlin still loved him he knew it because he told him every night in bed.

          Everything was going perfect. Farlin got his crown. He became Master to a small village than a city and then more villages until his rule was no longer challenged. All thanks to Geralt’s skill with a sword.

          Geralt was happy because Farlin was happy. He thought everything was perfect, until Farlin revealed it wasn’t.

          “You’re a witcher Geralt, I would have done anything to keep you at my side, to use your skills to my advantage. But I’m King now, I have no use for you. I’m tired of you.”

          Like a lost child, he said: “But, you said you loved me.”

          “Aren’t you listening to what I’m saying!? I was using you! Nothing more!”

          Geralt ran. He ran for miles and miles, through forest and swaps, until he couldn’t feel his legs anymore, until he collapsed from exhaustion and fell into a river.

          A woman found him. She feed him soup, kept him covered until he recovered from the cold.

          She put a notice up and Vesemir answered it.

          He paid the woman for her kindness and took his wayward student back to Kaer Morhen.

          And there Vesemir showed him the true meaning of love: forgiveness.

          Geralt could not sleep, there was no peace in his mind.

          Geralt finally realized Farlin had done nothing but lie to him. And so every life he took at Farlin’s command, every life cut short, all the blood he had spilt: it was murder. He was a murderer. For many nights Geralt cried.

          He couldn’t sleep, he didn’t eat, he became weaker. Once he tried to end his own life.

          Vesemir held him that night, rocked him back and forth. “You are innocent yourself,” he said, “you did not know.”

          Geralt did not believe him, he was not innocent.

          But Vesemir did not give up. “We teach you to look out for monsters, to kill them. Trolls, foglets, ghouls, those are easy to spot, they look like the monsters they are. But humans, humans are not black or white. They are gray, some are light gray and some are darker shades of grey. We did not teach you to spot those and you did not grow up around humans to learn the difference. All this is on me, for not teaching you about the most dangerous creature out there, about humans. They may be weaker than us, physically, not as strong. This Farlin, you could have killed him, you are better than him with a sword. But he used an invisible weapon against you. Words are powerful, the feelings they invoke feel real. And what he did to you, the words he said to you and what he made you feel, that was not your fault. It was his. All that blood is in his hands not yours.”

          Slowly, Vesemir’s care brought him back to live. His words gave him strength and wisdom. And when Geralt received his medallion he vowed to never hurt a human being for as long as he would live. Not one person would fall from his sword.

         

          Geralt stared at the ceiling as he recalled everything. Farlin was still pumping into him. His cock was large, thick, and it stretched him wide. Geralt felt disgust. He was pathetic, a few sweet words from the man and he had spread his legs for him, taken in is cock and accepted his words as a blessing.

          Full of anger Geralt pushed the man away, his hole felt empty and strange. “Get out.” Geralt said. He was angry his eyes lit with fire. “Get out!”

          “Geralt what has gotten over you!?”

          “Get out. I’m not a whore for you to fuck at your damn will!” He grabbed his knife. “Get out, or else,” he threatened.

          Farlin left the room with only his pants on.

          Immediately Geralt dressed. He packed his meager belongings and exited through the window.

          Farlin was King, he had just humiliated him. He would return to the room with soldiers, have Geralt thrown in prison or worse hanged.

          He thought about the Queen and headed over to the alchemist’s house.

          “Geralt what are you doing here? And why have you packed?”

          “Alfrid, I must leave. But before I leave I must give you information about the potion for tomorrow so you can lift the curse.”

          “What, why are you leaving?”

          “There was some disagreements between me and the king, he might want me dead. So it’s better if I leave. But I couldn’t leave without helping the Queen. Look if the magic you see is-“

          “Don’t worry about the Queen.” The alchemist said all of a sudden.

          “What do you mean, don’t worry about the Queen?”

          “I, I just mean don’t worry about her, that all, noting else. Nothing to worry about at all. Good luck on your journey.”

          “Alfrid, what are you hiding?”

          The alchemist looked down, “nothing,” mumbled.

          “You’re not a very good liar.”

          “You promise you wont say anything? I think I can trust you. I mean you just said the king wants to kill you, kind of, so that means he doesn’t like you or trust you and that you’re not like him. So that means I can trust you right?”

          “Yes, Alfrid you can trust me.”

          “ThereisnospellontheQueen.”  
          “What?”

          “There is no spell on the Queen.”

          “Then…Alfrid you need to explain to me what the hell is going on.”

          “The Queen hates her husband. Hates him completely. She’d rather die than allow that man to raise a child.”

          “Are you telling me that the Queen is killing her own children?”

          “What! No! We trade them with children that have died. Unfortunately, babes die all the time for many reasons so we do a quick trade. I take the healthy child of the Queen away to be raised by my sister up in Vizima.”

          “Why all the secrecy?”

          “King Farlin is a drunk, a violent man. He hides it well when there is company but many of us who have court duties know full well how he is. The Queen suffers not being able to raise her children but it is for the best. The man taints everything he touches, he would ruin his own children.”

          Geralt gave a bitter sigh. “I believe you. Thank you Alfrid for telling me this. The Queen does she need help? I could sneak her out of the palace, take her to Vizima, to her children.”

          “Thank you witcher, but that is unnecessary. The Queen and I have devised a plan. When the time is right she will be reunited with her children.”

          Geralt smiled. He extended his hand and Alfrid shook it. “I’m glad I met you Alfrid, and I wish you and the Queen the best of luck.”

          “Where will you go witcher?”

          “Back to Kaer Morhen, to wait out the rest of winter. And then on to the next contract, to the next beast to kill.”

          Alfrid smiled, “Good luck on the Path.”

 

         

         

         

         

         

         

           

         

         

         

         

         


End file.
